


You’re Entirely Bonkers (But I’ll Tell You a Secret – All the Best People Are)

by themidnightblues



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Meeting, Gen, Insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 14:16:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14474463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themidnightblues/pseuds/themidnightblues
Summary: Rose goes on a miniaturized adventure. And who's that man in the pinstripes who doesn't mind Rose's size?





	You’re Entirely Bonkers (But I’ll Tell You a Secret – All the Best People Are)

 

| |

 

It had sat there innocently enough. Cool, refreshing. The scent was intoxicating. She’d been hot and sweaty, out of breath from her long string of after school activities: gymnastics, choir, and recently, judo. Her mum’d forced her into that one, after that close call with Jimmy Stone. It was in her flat, on her coffee table, so naturally Rose had though her mum’d bought it. It was an unnatural color — acid pink - for soda to be sure, but Jackie Tyler always did love to buy the weirdest things. So Rose had drunk it… 

Sighing as she looked up at the coffee table, she said, “Now I’m Alice in bloody Wonderland.” She crossed her arms with a pout. “And I _hate_ that book.” She’s also very thankful her clothes came with her.

 

She wandered about the table, examining it from every angle, trying to find a way up so that when her mum came home, she wouldn’t be stepped on. Keeping the mind busy, a great way to distract herself from the panic; the panic that she was either going crazy or that aliens were invading and miniaturizing all the humans so that they can just step on them like bugs — easy way to take over the world. She didn’t know which one she feared more.

 

The table was a sleek one, bought for 50p down at the thrift store three blocks away. All lines and curves, it was, with not a handhold in sight. Rose knew this of course, but the faulty logic of ‘littler eyes can see littler holes’ was, at the moment, keeping her calm. Now, though, her mind was turning from rational to its ear. Her breathing was speeding up and blood was rushing through her head, making her dizzy and the outside world harder to hear.

 

Her hands flew to her chest, trying to keep her frantically beating heart from bursting out of her body. And was it hot in here? Terribly, terribly hot; like an oven. _Oh, God, someone’s gonna cook me!_ Just as that hysterical thought flitted through her head, and she knew it was hysterical but she couldn’t help it — she was hysterical, a gust of refreshingly cool wind flew through the open window, tossing Rose forward with a jolt. She’s not sure, being dizzy and stunned and feeling just a tiny bit ridiculous with half her body lodged unceremoniously into her previously discarded shoe, but she might be deciding, in the future, to find that little ride quite fun. Maybe. If her mum didn’t swat her with that fly swatter or spray her with bug spray. She’s sure, small as she is, that the stuff would kill her dead in milliseconds, rather than the minutes in her giant body.

 

Grunting, Rose pushed from the inside sole of her shoe, trying to get back to the floor. Her bum wiggled back and forth and she could feel a burn searing into her body from the edge of the shoe. Her feet flailed drunkenly and she thought, idly, that it was too bad she couldn’t get this on video. It would have been hilarious. Another few grunts and a moan later found Rose on the surprisingly hard carpet. She pouted and moaned again as she heaved herself to her feet, rubbing her bum to massage the pain from her tailbone out. The burn on her stomach could wait, though, Rose decided, when she came face to dangly-end-thingy. Eyes popping wide, she turned to look up through the glass of the table. There sat her lovely cashmere pullover, gifted to her by Mickey just yesterday for her eighteenth birthday.

 

Scowling, she crossed her arms and hissed, “I am _so_ knockin’ himself one! He got it in the clearance bin!”

 

Outrage still clear on her face, Rose growled and steeled herself. It was the only way up and she did rather prize her life above a slightly unraveled pullover. Her hands grasped the silky wool and she started to pull herself up. The process was slow, the smooth threads making it hard for her to grip, and she kept sliding down. Her hands were starting to chafe, like her stomach already had. She was fairly certain she’d gotten a thread poked into her palm too. Closing her eyes, Rose clenched harder around the strand. She was a gymnast, one of the top ranked in her class (her coach was saying something about the 2012 Olympics), she could beat this obstacle into submission. Hand over hand, Rose ascended, faster and faster, and she smiled.

 

Eyes open and focused on the edge of the table, Rose didn’t hear the front door open. As she stepped onto the surface of her conquest, arms spread wide and smug smile on her face (one small step for earth, one giant leap for mankind!), a shout resounded through the room. Rose jumped so hard, she nearly startled right back to her beginnings. She eyed the carpet from her new vantage point of half of her dangling over the edge before she quickly rolled toward the middle. She sat up, eyed her mum, and fully expected the next shout.

 

“Rose!” The older blonde dropped her tons of bags onto the dining room table and moved about cleaning up the kitchen. “That girl! More responsible now, well, everybody’s got to learn from an incident like with Jimmy Stone, but still a child at heart, I swear. Tell her to clean up the kitchen when she gets back from school and what do you get? A dirty kitchen and no answer to ROSE!”

 

Rose blinked slowly, trying to clear out the excess noise from her ears. _Apparently, smaller ears are easier to kill. Lovely. Mum’s loud._

 

A few deep breaths later and Rose thought she’d have enough force to bellow, “MUM!”

 

Jackie paused in her vigorous scrubbing and tilted her head a bit, listening for her. Well, maybe not Rose specifically, but for whatever had made a noise that most probably sounded like Minnie Mouse — on helium. Smiling at her slight success, Rose took advantage of her mum’s attention and screamed again, pushing all her body into it.

 

“MUUUUUUUUUM!”

 

Straightening up, Jackie tossed her sponge down and ripped off the dish gloves. Rose wrinkled her nose. She’d always tried to persuade her mum to buy the pink ones, not the yellow. Pink was so stylish. She smiled as her mum stormed into the living room and over to the open window. Frowning, Rose watched as her mum slammed it down, muttering, “Honestly, children these days. Got no manners, screamin’ about like that.”

 

As she turned back to go to the kitchen, her eyes landed on Rose’s discarded shoes and Rose jumped up and down, waving her arms. Both in joy and an attempt to get her mum to look at her. Jackie approached the table and the shoes, frowning.

 

“She always does what I ask her to when home. May not come home when I want her to, but…” She paused and Rose watched as her mum brought her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes, pinched her cheeks. Slowly, as if she were afraid of what she’d see (and Rose very much hoped that was the reason, else she wouldn’t have spotted her), Jackie turned toward the table. She looked down. Rose smiled and waved. Jackie bent to her level, just as slowly as before, eye wide and staring. Rose grimaced and took a step or three backwards. Staring into one gigantic eyes was unpleasant. At a comfortable distance. Rose finally spoke.

 

“Hi mum.”

 

“Uauauagh…” Rose’s eyes followed as Jackie fainted, slamming onto the floor and sending an earthquake through the table. She had to grab onto the sweater to keep her balance. Once the table settled and Rose could stand steady again, she stared at her mum. The shadows were getting longer and all the lamps and switches were too big, too far, or too high. Rose stared at her mum’s unconscious body until night fell and the whole flat was encompassed in darkness. Exhaling noisily, and with nothing better to do, Rose crawled into her pullover and made herself comfortable; she formed a pillow with one sleeve, bundling it up until it was nice and squishy and pulled the rest of the material over her body. It was hot out and the thermostat was still broken, she might swelter, but it was the price she paid for just a smidgen of that safety feeling. Settling in, she wiggled her body until she was comfortable and then dropped off to sleep. Hopefully, when she woke, she’ll have realized that this was all a dream.

 

| |

 

“Aaaah!” _Thump!_ Rose didn’t even bother to open her eyes or un-snuggle from her comfortable bed. She just sighed, wiggled more comfortably into the cashmere, and decided that such a rude awakening required a few more hours of rest. After all, there was no need to check that last night was a dream. Her mum’d just confirmed the opposite.

 

A couple hours later, awake and alert, Rose noticed that her mum was still unconscious. Or dead. Maybe she hit her head that last faint? Worried now, Rose pushed out of the jumper and took a running leap, landing safely and quite squishily onto her mum’s stomach. Which moved. As she breathed.

 

_Thank God!_

 

Relief washed over her as she further confirmed her mum’s health, seeing no blood from her head. She smiled and _fwumped!_ down onto her mum’s stomach, wondering what she was supposed to do now. In hindsight, her mum wouldn’t know what to do. The clock on the VCR ticked to 11 am and it was about that time that Rose’s panic resurged.

 

What if she was stuck this way forever? There’s no rabbit holes here for her to tumble down to live with animals and card decks her size! And what about the Olympics? She couldn’t very well continue gymnastics practice and then go! She’s be squashed! Not like she really wanted to go to the Olympics anyway. She loved gymnastics, but she knew, once it became a professional sport, it would become tedious. Her friend Jane had gone on to do it professionally and now she was a drunk.

 

_Now I won’t be able to take my A-levels! I won’t get to see if astronomy is my forte!_

 

Idly, the thought that Mickey would laugh if he heard her use her study words danced in her mind. That is, if he was still talking to her. Which he wasn’t. Breakups with friends were always the messiest.

 

She sat there, no idea what to do, when an ominous sound reverberated through her bones. Eyes popping wide, Rose turned slowly, knowing all the while that her mum had _not_ nailed shut the cat door. Her breath froze in her throat when she came face to snout with a very large, very hungry-looking, very smug cat. Her eyes couldn’t look away from the mouth, with all those pointy, white teeth and that grin, a _definite_ Cheshire Cat grin.

 

Heart thudding and blood rushing so loud she was sure the cat could hear it, Rose slowly stood. She faced the great beast and did her best to smile, but it faltered.

 

“Uh, heh, wotcher.” She wiggled her fingers in a half-hearted wave and the cat tensed, hunched down, ready to pounce.

 

“Bloody hell.”

 

Rose gaged the distance to the door, which didn’t really help much. She’d still have to take the time to climb over the lip of the cat door and that was even if she was, miraculously, faster than the cat in the first place. Just as Rose was about to make a try for the door anyway, the cat whipped its head about when her mum lifted her head, saw tiny Rose, and fainted again. Rose took the advantage, jumping off Jackie’s stomach and landing with a soft _oomph!_ She took a deep breath and took a running start. The cat noticed her movement and whipped around, hunkering down again to make her leap, but that’s when Rose launched herself into a series of front-flip handstands. Her feet connected with the cat’s bottom jaw, snapping it shut loudly and quite possibly painfully, but Rose kept her balance.

 

The momentum built up by her flips, and the space she ate up with each revolution, got Rose to the door in record time (she was, after all, a champion flipper on her team) and she fairly flew out of the heavy plastic door. She could hear the cat trundling behind her and in front of her, her next door neighbor was powerwalking towards the stairs. Smiling, Rose ran for the older woman’s legs. She reached out for the fluorescent green velour tracksuit and managed to grab a handful as the woman swept by.

 

“Whoa!” Rose was yanked off her feet, her body flying behind her like she was a flag in the wind. The cat stuck it’s head out the door, sharp eyes searching for Rose. They widened in delight and the Cheshire grin reappeared, when she was spotted dangling precariously from her bumpy ride.

 

Since Rose was gaining distance on the cat, the feline launched out the door and down the hall, careening toward Mrs. Marice’s legs. Rose squinched her eyes shut and dug further into the material. As she heard the sound of her doom approaching, she took the time to wonder what her epitaph would say.

 

 _Death by cat_ , maybe, or even _Moused to death._ She was so busy trying to distract herself that she almost lost her grip at the unexpected jerking of Mrs. Marice’s leg. Eyes flying open, Rose watched as the old woman swatted at the cat, screeching, “Scat! Away, get away vile creature! Away!”

 

Her oversized handbag, one Rose couldn’t fathom how she’d missed the presence of, swung at the cat, smacking it in the side and sending it skittering down the hall, tail fluffed up and hisses pouring from it’s mouth. Rose would feel bad for the cat if he hadn’t tried to eat her. As it was, she could afford to be a bit callous. Once the cat disappeared around the corner, Mrs. Marice continued her powerwalk to the end of the hall and down the stairs. Rose didn’t dare let go while on the steps; she might tumble and continue to do so until she cracked her miniature head so many times she’d die; alone, in pain, and tiny. Then, of course, her carcass would be eaten by some sort of rodent or even that evil cat and why the bloody hell was she thinking about this?

 

Her human ride hit the linoleum of the entrance and then powered through the glass doors, onto the wet, slick concrete of the outdoors. Rose wondered what she should do now. She can’t go with Mrs. Marice. Who knew how long she could hold on? If she slipped, then she’d be so far from home with lots of humungous feet and cars to avoid that she knew she’d never make it alive, but if she just dropped her, in the view of all the stray cats and dogs and rats and children, she’d be just as in danger. She had to admit that she feared the children the worst. She’s seen the little brats that live around here with flies; she didn’t fancy having her arms pulled off.

 

Thinking that familiarity was better than the unknown in her miniscule state, Rose looked down, kicked off from her neighbor’s leg, and executed a perfect backflip. She landed a little off-center and stumbled a bit, falling into a water puddle and soaking herself to the bone.

 

Frowning, she pushed herself up and tossed her wet, clingy hair over the top of her head. She wiped her hands on her equally wet sports trousers and grumbled. Pausing in the process of lifting her foot to examine it for foreign goop, she reconsidered. That grumble hadn’t come from her.

 

“But this one did,” she groaned. Her head tilted up to peer at the sky just as a big, fat drop of rain plummeted from the sky and struck her in the face. It sent her tumbling down again and the newly acquired stinging on her elbow accompanied the burning stinging on her face. More drops crashed down around her and small as she was, it was like being bombarded with missiles for a regularly sized human. She rolled to her feet and spotted the playground merry-go-round, dilapidated and rusted, but adequate for shelter. She zig-zagged through the pelting rain, crossed her fingers and fervently prayed that no other creature was taking refuge under the ride at this time.

 

A drop of rain smacked into her back, sending her sprawling for the third time that day. She tucked and rolled so that she landed on her back instead of her face and for her efforts, was assaulted with another large drop on her stomach.

 

Crying out, Rose grabbed her stomach. She felt like she was about to puke, she’d been hit so hard. Her back was fine though, nice strong things — backs, so she rolled over onto her knees and pressed her forehead to the ground. Seconds ticked by as the rain shower increased and drops of various sizes smacked into her back. The stinging was more bearable on that part of her anatomy, so she stayed in that position, breathing deeply and ridding her throat of the urge to puke. She had enough clarity to hope that she wasn’t inside one of the many depressions in the concrete because this rain felt like it would fill them all up.

 

Unexpectedly, it got dark. And dry. Or dry-ish. At least, she was still wet but the rain had gone. Which wasn’t right because she could still hear it pounding away enthusiastically all around her. Brow wrinkled in confusion, Rose pushed herself up and flopped back onto her bum. What she saw made her blink. It was a shoe. A gigantic, white Converse stained with dirt and ratty around the edges. She looked around her after that. A limp brown thing was encircling her, keeping the rain off of her and she quickly realized that it was a the tail of a long brown coat.

 

She finally looked up, into the face of quite the gorgeous male specimen. Intense chocolate eyes complimented the aquiline nose and smattering of freckles on his cheek and his smile, large and wide and revealing sharp, white teeth.

 

“Hello!”

 

Rose blinked again, wondering if this man was barmy. Most people don’t just smile and greet a human only three inches tall. She couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “Thanks. I didn’t much fancy drownin’.”

 

His smile widened and he said, “I don’t think many people do. I’m the Doctor! What’s your name?”

 

He stuck out his pinky finger and Rose stared at it, then him, in bemusement. Finally, after watching him just sit there patiently, Rose smiled tentatively and shook the tip of his pinky with both her hands.

 

“’M Rose Tyler.”

 

The Doctor smiled even brighter, if that was possible and somehow — with this man — she knew it was.

 

“Well, Rose Tyler, let’s get you out of this rain, shall we? Not at all pleasant on such a tiny thing as yourself. Fancy a ride in a pocket? Oh! No, can’t do that, they’re dimensionally transcendental, don’t you know, way too big for you, you’d get lost in them, I’d never be able to find you and for the rest of your natural lifetime I’d have to be tossing reasonably sized food packets in for you, hoping — of course — that you’d be able to find them. Hand it is then.”

 

He smiled again, after his insane babble, and held out the hand with the pinky she’d shook, palm up. “Hop on!”

 

Before Rose took one step, she decided she had to know something. It wouldn’t, of course, deter her from accepting his help as he was the only one likely to offer any, but she had to know.

 

“You wouldn’t happen to be the Mad Hatter, would you?”

 

Barmy grin turned to cheesy grin and his head bobbed from side to side.

 

“Ah! Then you would be Alice. Great fun!” he noticed her dubious expression and sobered, if only slightly. “Never been called that before, but there’s a first time for everything and in any case, I guess you _could_ say this body is quite mad. Even more so than my previous nine, don’t you know.” His eyes narrowed shrewdly and he pointed his index of the unoccupied hand at her, arm holding the jacket over her. “But I never wear a hat. Never! Got great hair this time round, so obviously it wouldn’t do to hide it.”

 

“Riiiiiiiiiight.” Although, in consideration of Rose’s recent experiences, she wasn’t all sure that she _didn’t_ believe him.

 

“Well, tally-ho! Have to figure out how to get you big again. Being so small in such a big world can’t be at all pleasant. Ready, Alice?”

 

Rose smiled her gigantic smile, already smitten with this daft man, and her tongue popped out to touch her front teeth. She settled into the cup of his palm and wrapped her arms around his thumb.

 

“Ready.”

 

The Doctor cupped his other hand over Rose, keeping the rain from hitting her again, and said, “Right-o! Oh! No, no way! Remind me never to say _that_ one again, would you Rose?”

 

“Got it!” She shot him two thumbs up, though he couldn’t see or even, probably, hear her. She was dissuaded from that thought, though, when he responded.

 

“Great. Need someone to keep my words for me, always so hard to know what sounds right and what sounds wrong in this new body. You are, after all, coming with me aren’t you, Rose? After we get you big again? I rather think I like you.”

 

Rose contemplated that question. Go where?  
  
“Go where?”

 

The motion stopped and Rose felt the hands elevate. The one above her left, but Rose didn’t flinch. Somehow, she just knew that this Doctor had her properly shielded from the rain before he’d removed her roof. When she was clear of the darkness, she found she was face to eyes with the Doctor.

 

“Why, to see the rest of this big, wonderful universe of course! Need a companion and a lovely one like you would be even better. Haven’t had one since my eighth body you see and since you seem to be taken miniaturization and my talk about previous bodies so well, I thought you would do rather more than nicely.”

 

Rose smiled. The way he said it, she couldn’t help but believe him.

 

“You an alien then?”

 

The Doctor smiled. “Oh, from my perspective, _you’re_ the alien. And not because of your size.”

 

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. The Doctor joined in, bizarre and manic smile ever present. This was going to be a wonderful year.

**Author's Note:**

> Adding some old, forgotten stories I found on an old fanfic website.


End file.
